The Luckiest Man in the World
by Trespaises
Summary: The day after "Moondance"


This story takes place the morning after 'Moon Dance.' I may be stuck in season three but episodes like this make the wait worth while. To Erin who coincidentally watched this episode at the same time as I did, oceans away. Cheers. Tambien dedicado a mis amigos Vick, Moxie y Sydney. "Callate, Niles." LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
The Luckiest Man in the World  
  
By Amy (amydekanter@yahoo.com)  
  
  
  
Niles had not planned to see anyone that day. He had not planned to leave the house or call anyone and even neglected to pick up his newspaper. He felt he deserved a break from the world, especially since the world had decided to take a break from him. He knew he would not be missed. He was just one big cosmic nothing.  
  
These thoughts had been running through his head all night and the first reason he was surprised to hear his doorbell so early in the morning.  
  
"Dad? What are you doing here?" And, more worryingly, what was Eddie doing here?  
  
"Hey, better me than Frasier."  
  
"Oh." So it was about last night. Mentally, Niles went back in time and opted against opening the door. He sighed, an ill-starred cat mangled once more by the jaws of curiosity. It was too late to second guess that and a dozen other hapless incidents he he had brought on himself during the past seven days.  
  
"So, can I come in or are you going to let me lean on my cane for a while?"  
  
"Of course, come in." Niles stepped aside to let his father pass. Despite his low mood there was something about this moment. Dad had rarely visited him before. Never alone and certainly not without calling first.  
  
"Can I get you some coffee? Yoghurt? Croissants?"  
  
"Naw, I had breakfast already. With Daphne."  
  
"Oh." Niles said again, his only possible response to the ruthless mention of her name. "Do you mind if I." He gestured towards his half-eaten breakfast. Eddie had already made himself comfortable on the fainting couch.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
His weak appetite was now completely gone but Niles was glad to be seated again. He wished Dad would stop looking at him that way. The way Mother used to look at him when he lost a chess tournament or got less than full marks on an examination. The caring look of a parent who feels his child's pain.  
  
"Dad, before you say anything, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing happened."  
  
"Niles, I know you better than that." Dad's voice was unusually gentle. "Even if nothing happened something happened."  
  
Niles took a bite out of his croissant and chewed. And chewed. And chewed. His tongue had gone dry and crumbs scratched at the inside of his mouth. It was like eating a loofah. He washed it down with grapefruit juice. Dad still had that same expression on his face.  
  
"Did she say anything?" Niles asked.  
  
"Oh, yeah. She's been gushing like an open keg at a frat party. Since last night all she can talk about was how wonderful everything was, how it was the best night of her life. You know Daphne."  
  
Something between pain and affection coursed through Niles' heart. Yes, he knew Daphne. "Did she say anything about." He did not want to ask the question or have to finish the sentence. It did not matter. Dad knew what he was asking.  
  
"Oh, yeah. She's been going on about you like there's no tomorrow. She said you were the life of the party and that your friends could not stop staring. Sounded like she was proud to be your date for the night." Niles heard a reflection of that pride in his father's voice. It would have meant a lot, if Niles had been capable of feeling anything. Anything but wariness and confusion. He could not let it matter that Daphne was talking about him. He would never again make the mistake of thinking she saw him as anything but an object of pity.  
  
"She was magnificent," Niles said, aware that his voice sounded mechanical. It was true, but he would not allow himself to attach any emotion to the memories, so carefully pushed aside. He took another bite of his croissant, a mistake, it turned out, considering that his father's next words were:  
  
"She also told Frasier that you are a great kisser."  
  
The croissant took a dive down Niles' windpipe and Niles started to choke. Having taken the precaution of a small bite, he was able to dislodge after only four hard thumps on the back from Dad. He would worry about the inevitable bruises later. Niles downed the rest of his grapefruit juice to lubricate his throat enough to speak again.  
  
"She said that? I mean. she did not mean anything by it."  
  
"You kissed her?"  
  
"We kissed. At the end of the night. It didn't mean anything."  
  
"To her or to you?"  
  
"Dad,,,"  
  
"Niles, Daphne might not know how much it meant to you but I think I do. You may as well tell me."  
  
"The kiss meant nothing," Niles repeated, aware that he was stubbornly repeating what he had been telling himself all night. His walls caved under his father's look. "Not to her, at any rate."  
  
"Geez, Niles."  
  
"She thought it was just an act, that I was using her to make my friends see I was still able to get a date with a beautiful woman and not just sit at home pining for Maris."  
  
"Yeah, she told me about that part at breakfast. Didn't seem to me like she felt used, though. She acted like it was as much her idea as yours."  
  
"It was not my idea at all." Humiliation burned inside, but Dad was right. He would much rather tell this to his father than to Frasier. "Did she tell you I told her how I felt about her? That she thought that was an act too?"  
  
"No, she must have left that part out."  
  
"Well, obviously it's not even important enough to mention." Why had he answered the door? In fact, why had he even got up this morning?  
  
"Well she told us about the kiss. And you want to know why? Because both Frasier and I were waiting up for her. Then she comes back, twirling and gliding like she's still at the ball, and your brother starts giving her the third degree. She told him about the kiss to shut him up. It worked too." Dad smiled at the memory.  
  
"Frasier wasn't insulting towards her, was he?" If he had been he would hear from Niles. It felt good to be angry at someone.  
  
"Of course he was insulting. You know how he is, well-meaning and all but then he lets out these pinheaded remarks. Since he wasn't around last week he would not believe that you had learned to dance and he kept interrupting Daphne to imply that she was exaggerating or that she was flat out too dumb to know good dancing when she saw it. She got mad." Dad flashed a grin but Niles failed to see the humour. How dare Frasier speak to her that way.  
  
"Niles, she was not sticking up for herself. She told Frasier you were one of the best dancers she's ever gone out with and the best kisser, bar none. Then she went off to bed with your brother's mouth still flapping like he was a dying trout. It was all I could do to keep him from coming over here, but he was pacing around the apartment most of the night. You're sure to hear from him today."  
  
"I can't wait." Niles said dully. "I doubt I could feel much worse than I do, but I'm sure he'll rise to the challenge. Anyway, I won't answer the door and I'm certainly in no hurry to come by your apartment again anytime soon."  
  
"Niles, I warned you."  
  
"Dad, the last thing I need is a lecture."  
  
"Well, that lecture, maybe, but not this one: The problem is that you really don't know how good you have it."  
  
"How good I have it?" Niles flared. Surely Dad had to be joking. "Let's see exactly how lucky I am, shall we? Item one: My wife kicked me out of the house and is living a richer social life than when we were together.  
  
"Item two:" Niles counted off on his fingers. "I have ceased to be invited to parties, gatherings, benefits or anywhere else where one mingles with the upper crust. In fact I haven't even been invited to the filling level and just manage to scrape off an occasional crumb burnt to the bottom of the pan. The only reason I went to the Snow Ball is because I'm still a member of the club and am so entitled. For now, at least.  
  
"Item three: My friends barely acknowledge me in public. 'Public' being the rare times I run into them by accident since not one of them has called me since my separation."  
  
"Now, son."  
  
"Item four:" Niles' voice was getting high with hysteria. "I finally gather the courage to tell the woman of my dreams how I feel about her and she thinks it's a colossal joke. If you have the time I can probably come up with items 5 through 400, but this morning, on a Sunday just before 8am, those are the top contenders."  
  
"See Niles, that's your problem right there. Items one through three should clue you in to what miserable bums you've always let into your life and item four." Dad's voice lost steam and he leaned back in his chair. "You have this picture of what you think you want with Daphne. Now, that picture is not clear to even to you, but you keep staring at it so hard you just don't see what you've already got with her."  
  
"I've got nothing, Dad."  
  
"No, nothing is what you think you have. You also think you have nothing to offer Daphne. And in a way it's true. What have you offered Daphne? Nothing. At least not out loud. You've just been yourself around her and she likes you. Hell, she loves you, even if it's not the way you think you may or may not want."  
  
"Dad."  
  
"No, think about it, because it kills me that with all the crap in your life you don't see the good stuff that's staring you in the face. Sure, all your so-called friends are giving you the cold shoulder and your wife is going out of her way to make you feel like a big fat zero. But then there is one person who stuck up for you. Someone who spent a whole week teaching you how to dance so you'd have a good date and who bought a new dress to go out with you when your date cancelled. Someone who couldn't stand seeing other people being mean to you and stepped in to shut them up and to make you feel better."  
  
Niles said nothing. He had made up his mind earlier not to listen to anything anyone had to say about last night, but is father's words were oozing in through his skin, timidly making contact with his heart.  
  
"And let me ask you something. why was Daphne home so early last night? Did she want to leave?"  
  
"No." Oh, god. She had wanted to stay. Remorse coursed like ice through Niles' veins. After the tango she showed no signs of tiring and asked Niles to dance again. It was Niles whom had turned her down, Niles who, deeply embedded in his own misery, had cut her own evening short. Daphne's first ball, for which she had spent far too much money on a new dress.  
  
Daphne was disappointed she had not shown it. She had agreed cheerfully, the delightful companion she had been all evening, doing everything she could to make certain Niles would have nothing but good memories of the dance.  
  
"You know," Dad said, turning the knife. "I can tell you that the best thing about being a cop is that you make the kind of friends you can't make anywhere else. My buddies would do anything to me, right down to taking a bullet. And I'd do the same for them just as I'd do for my family. Civilians, on the other hand. now they are lucky if they have one or two friends like that in a lifetime."  
  
Dad whistled for Eddie and, leash in hand, started towards the door. Niles should have stood to see him out but found he could not stand up.  
  
"So I may not be the world's greatest expert on love," Dad was saying. "But I know loyalty, and what Daphne did for you yesterday came from a heart that will never judge you, never leave you to face your troubles alone and stay true for life. And that's not nothing, it's a hell of a lot of something."  
  
At the door, Dad paused.  
  
"That's all I had to say," he said. "Go back to being filthy rich one day and get invited to balls and inaugurations and what not. Go rub elbows with all the jackasses who couldn't get away from you fast enough when you most needed a friend. Good luck. I'm just telling you, it's true what they say: There are some things, sometimes the most important things, that money just can't buy."  
  
  
  
***************************************  
  
"Hello, Mr. Crane. How was your drive?"  
  
"Great. I stopped at the dog park on the way back so you don't need to walk us. Is Frasier up yet?"  
  
"No, thank god. I went to the shops this morning to avoid him then came back to find that I needn't have bothered; he's still out like a log. Can I get you a drink?"  
  
"Only if it comes out of a can."  
  
"Oh, all right," Daphne was still in a good mood. "But just one until this evening."  
  
Martin settled into his chair and switched on the TV. He had left Niles staring into space, but at least he could tell his son's brain was working again.  
  
Martin had felt bad for Niles when Daphne told him and Frasier about the Snow Ball. At the same time, he saw what she had tried to do and was touched. She had even made him laugh with her imitation of the dumbstruck way Niles' so-called friends had stared at Maris' meek ex-lapdog, now shining by his own light on the dance floor, his arms around a beautiful and adoring companion.  
  
"He was dazzling," Daphne had said, true admiration in her voice. "He's a natural."  
  
"You want me to be impressed, teach him to play baseball," Martin grumbled, but he had then raised the newspaper to hide his smile. Boy, it would have been great to see that.  
  
Martin's visit to the Montana had turned out very different from what he had expected. He had thought he was going to chew Niles out for setting himself up for heartbreak, but he could not stop thinking about what had happened at the dance. Niles already knew Martin did not like his high society friends. Like sharks, they preyed on their own, ripping apart the weakest in their group. Which this time happened to be his younger son.  
  
In all his life Martin had only counted three people who really cared about Niles. Niles' friends were not in that group, nor was his wife, Maris. Hester was, of course, but now she was dead and Martin would not be around forever. He had worried more than he liked to admit that one day all Niles would have was Frasier.  
  
But things had changed now, Niles had Daphne. They all had Daphne.  
  
"Pretzels or pork rinds?" She called out. She definitely was in a good mood.  
  
"Pork rinds," Martin called back.  
  
"I'm putting some in a bowl and that's all you're getting, so don't go asking for more."  
  
Martin rolled his eyes. As if it had not been she who had offered. He would have never dared ask for pork rinds and beer at this time of day.  
  
She gave him the food then sat down on the couch to watch TV with him.  
  
"Hey Daph, you'd take a bullet for me, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Depends where it was aiming."  
  
Martin grinned. He had been wrong in what he told Niles earlier. Someone who would take a bullet for you may be one in ten thousand. Someone who could put up with the Cranes and do with good humour day in and day out. now that was one in a million.  
  
The doorbell rang and Daphne stood to answer it.  
  
"Flowers for Miss Moon."  
  
"Oh my, Joe really outdid himself." Flowers were not normally Martin's thing, but this was some bouquet; so huge Daphne staggered under its weight as she carried it to the table.  
  
"Oh. They're not from Joe. They're from Dr. Crane. The younger Dr. Crane, I mean." Daphne looked surprised but she was smiling the way she had been smiling when she came home last night. The way she had been smiling all week, that secret-y smile that women wear when they are thinking of someone they like. Incredibly, it was Martin's girl-shy son who was making her light up like Christmas. Wouldn't it be great if. but no, it would never happen.  
  
Even as he put the thought out of his head, Martin shared Daphne's smile when she handed him the card, finally proof that Niles had spouted a couple of brain cells since this morning. The card read:  
  
"To the best dance teacher and dance companion anyone could ask for. With undying gratitude, Niles Crane. The luckiest man in the world."  
  
THE END 


End file.
